


Optional

by yeaka



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Silas comes home to suspicious goodness.





	Optional

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Dirk Gently or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

By the time he’s pushing through his apartment door, he’s too worn out for life. Work was even more grueling than usual, and he knows he started out the day with trepidations, but so many things have gone wrong since then that he can’t even remember what first got his back up. Silas all but slams the door behind him and has way too much trouble detangling from his scarf. 

Panto shows up in the hallway, silhouetted like an angel by the soft glow of their living room. His newly dyed pink hair glistens catches Silas’ eye, perfectly styled, every bit as attractive as all the rest of him. For a moment, Silas forgets his worries, because his partner’s so _beautiful_, and that never gets old. It helps that Panto wears a winning smile, and when he’s close enough, he kisses Silas’ cheek. He helps pull away Silas’ jacket, greeting warmly, “Welcome home.”

Panto’s always so _warm_. As soon as Silas has kicked out of his shoes, he’s in Panto’s arms, pulling his handsome boyfriend close for a crushing hug. Panto returns it with a protective fierceness, murmuring sympathetically over Silas’ shoulder, “Rough day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Silas sighs. But he doesn’t say anymore. He doesn’t like to bring his work home. He likes to forget it all and melt into the bliss that is his domestic life—he doesn’t dare taint that with daytime woes. Panto soothingly rubs his back, and then Silas is begrudgingly pulling back so he can wander deeper inside and plop down on the couch. 

Panto doesn’t join him. Instead, Panto disappears behind him, rummaging through the kitchenette with a few clacking sounds. Silas hears the kettle turn off, dishes hit the counter, and then Panto’s reemerging with two steaming mugs. 

He sets his own on the counter and passes one to Silas. One sniff, and Silas is blowing across the surface of fresh hot chocolate. Panto joins him sitting down, so close that their knees brush. Panto even asks, “Do you want a massage?”

Silas laughs. He’d love one—he always loves them, especially from Panto’s skilled hands, and even more when they devolve into other things, because once Panto’s hands are on him, it’s hard to let them go. But hearing the offer right away, after preemptive hot chocolate and a welcome hug at the door, is all too much at once. Silas has to ask, “What’s going on?”

“I love you,” Panto answers, which isn’t really an answer at all, but is still great to hear. It has Silas smiling broadly, but that’s nothing new when Panto is around him.

“I love you too. But why are you—” And then it hits him. _His mother’s coming._ Her flight was supposed to arrive during his work hours, though they’d expected delays. The smile drops right off of Silas’ face. He can’t believe he forgot his own mother. He asks, “Where is she?”

The joy leaves Panto’s eyes. He glances aside and mutters, “I’m sorry. I went to pick her up, but she took one look at my new hair colour and insisted on booking a hotel.” Silas groans. Panto keeps talking. “I told her she was welcome here, and we’d already made up the spare room, but she just... refused to stay. I’m sorry.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry.” He hates that Panto would even apologize. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that. I know she’s ridiculous...”

“But she’s your mother, and... I’m always going to be a wedge between you.” Panto shrugs, like he accepts that, but still feels it heavy on his shoulders. Silas completely understands.

“I’m not any better for your relationship with your father.”

Panto shakes his head. “I still feel guilty. Perhaps if I hadn’t dyed it such a crazy colour...”

“Panto, I _love_ your pink hair. I love _you._ And if my mother can’t accept that, then... well... maybe it’s best she doesn’t stay with us for the week anyway.” It’ll certainly make their mornings more peaceful and ensure more sex at night. Panto doesn’t look fully convinced, but in a way, Silas is relieved. He just wishes he’d been the one to face his mother’s rejection instead of Panto. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He doesn’t check it, because he already knows who it’ll be. Panto’s eyes flicker down to his pants, waiting. Silas makes a deliberate choice to ignore it and kiss Panto instead.


End file.
